Completing The Game
by WH1T3R4V3N
Summary: Ever wondered what it would be like to be sucked into Minecraft? Think it would be fun, huh? Exciting? Thrilling? Well, I'm here to tell you it's not. It sucks. My name is Ian, and welcome to my world...
1. Beg1nnings

**Whoo, new story! Yay!**

**Most of my Fanfictions have been serious so far, but this one isn't. At all.**

**WARNING: SWEARING THROUGHOUT STORY**

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><p><strong>Beg1nnings<strong>

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><p>I suppose I should start at the beginning. After all, there's no sense in starting in the middle, or the end, is there? Unless you're trying to build suspense, I guess, like some of those crappy fanfiction writers do. Well, I'm not going to start off anywhere but the beginning. Yeah. The beginning.<p>

OK, here goes. I'm crap at this kind of thing. Before, I always left the exposition to the writers and the authors. Are those both the same thing? I think so. Never mind.

Right, the beginning. Yes. Well, there's a couple of things you need to know about me first. My name is Ian. Ian Preacher. Despite my surname, I've never preached anything in my life, except the immortal mantra that being a dick to people is awesome. I'm seventeen, tall, dark haired, dark eyed and an all round egotistical self-centred jerk. At least, I was.

I was.

Not now, though. Not after what happened to me.

You see, I didn't have many friends back then. No, no, don't try to console me about it. Oh, you weren't trying to? Asshole. Anyway, I used to prefer my own company to the company of others, spending hours shut away from the sun on my computer. I was a gamer, you see. Half Life, Minecraft, Portal, Audiosurf, Blur, I'd played 'em all. In fact, on that fateful day, I was congratulating myself on reaching 300 hours played on Bioshock 2, after a 2-and-a-half-week marathon doing nothing else. When I finally emerged from my darkened sanctuary, blinking at the harshness of an electric light, my parents gave me the most condescending, evil looks I had ever seen.

"Ian!" My mother had said, "Y u play so much brah?!" Or words to that effect, anyway. In truth, I don't really remember what she said.

I ignored her.

Soon enough, though, I found that 'the outside world' wasn't really to my taste. Too loud, and bright, and hectic. The noise, and the brightness, and the… uhh… hecticness? hecticosity? sent me scurrying back to the safety of my room like the little friggin' wimp that I am. Back to my computer. Back to my private little world, the world that I completely and utterly ruled. I owned that world.

Or so I thought.

I jumped as my phone vibrated weakly next to me, it's little jingle filtering through the air like sand filtering through a sieve. Or water filtering through your hand. Or... screw it, I'm no good at metaphors.

I snatched the slender rectangle up, glancing at the cracked screen with interest. The only people that called me were my friends Duncan (whom we had nicknamed Duchess) and a teen who I had only talked to over the internet, Kore. That was not his real name. We had set up a Minecraft roleplaying blog together (really sad shit, I know) and had both chosen pseudonyms. Kore knew me as NoClip - Clip for short -, no other name needed. The text turned out to be from him, so I opened it up with a growing sense of excitement. It was very short, but nothing much else needed to be said.

**[KORE] clip 1.8 released today**

I grinned, knowing exactly what he meant. Sprawling out on to my narrow bed, I replied.

**[NOCLIP] Server?**

Within moments, my phone had beeped again. I knew that Kore had been waiting for me to ask, and had already typed up his answer.

**[KORE] pvelords in 15min**

The smile on my face widened. PvELords was the server we co-owned together, along with another internet friend called Leon. Like Kore, I had never met him IRL, so to speak. Still, that didn't matter. It wasn't like he knew where I lived or anything if he turned out to be a creepy pedo.

Even if he was, he was a creepy pedo with a render farm in his basement, so we kinda needed him.

My ancient desk chair creaked worryingly as I sat down and booted up the jurassic piece of junk that I call my personal computer. I took a moment to tut as it's sluggish pace, then looked up a list of updates and changes the 1.8 update had brought us on my phone. "The Bountiful Update" the title read. My eyes slowly grew wider as I scanned the lengthy column; it seemed that Mojang was trying desperately to hold onto it's users with all these new features. Right at the foot of the list were two words that made me smirk.

_Removed Herobrine._

Kore was a fanatic. He believed, however much I attempted to persuade him otherwise, that Herobrine was an actual feature of the game. At the time, I could have told you with absolute certainty that he didn't exist. Hell, I'd even gone through the game's code searching for entities akin to him and finding none.

Yes, I could have told you there was no Herobrine back then.

Anyway, that's for another time. At that precise moment, the main thing on my mind was the new update, with all it's new blocks, mobs, and bug fixes. Kore had been even more thrilled than I had been; he and Leon had worked tirelessly all night to update PvELords to 1.8 standards, and they were pretty sure it worked. I was to be the tester, I always was when they updated something. After all, If anyone had to fu- uh, _mess_ up their computer it should be me. My computer is crap anyway.

Heavy rain spattered on the glass outside my window as my decrepit machine finally booted up.

_[[Welcome, Ian P.]]_

Before it had even finished loading, I had double clicked the little blocky icon on my desktop. I knew that Minecraft would take at least five minutes to load, and that wasn't even taking into account the time 1.8 would take to download. I sighed heavily as my phone vibrated again.

**[KORE] where r u im in spawn**

**[NOCLIP] Give me a min. I'm loading.**

**[KORE] get a better pc dickface**

"Jerk." I said out loud, chuckling. Glancing up, I saw that Minecraft had finally loaded, and in record time at that. I navigated to my server list, scrolling down until I found the correct ip. Sure enough, while most of the servers had red crosses beside them indicating they were not joinable, PvELords did not. I selected it, and waited for my computer to connect as my phone went off yet again.

"Oh, piss off Kore, I'm coming!" I growled at nothing in particular, leaning over to grasp the mobile. When I opened up my message app, however, I saw the text was not from him. Instead, it was from Leon.

**[LEON] Clip! Do not join the server!**

I frowned, glancing up at my pc screen, at the still-loading game. He'd probably found a bug, or some shit like that. Never mind, I'd just quit as soon as my game loaded, otherwise I'd crash if I tried to exit now. Crashing would waste more time, when it was clear Kore was already pissed at me for being so slow. Before I could reply to Leon's message, another arrived.

**[LEON] Answer me! Tell me you haven't joined that server, Clip!**

This, above anything, struck me as odd. Leon was usually the calm, laid back one. What glitch could be so bad that he would message me like this?

**[NOCLIP] Hey man, chill. What's up?**

Within seconds, Leon replied, like I had suspected he would.

**[LEON] Have you joined that fucking server Clip? Yes or no?**

**[LEON] Answer me dammit!**

"Don't wait for me to reply then, ass!" I frowned. Leon's texts were really putting a damper on my good mood. I had no idea what he'd do if I said that I'd joined, so I wrote-

**[NOCLIP] No, not yet. I won't join then, If there's a bug or something like that.**

I received no messages from either of my friends for a few minutes; I spent the time staring at my PC screen, waiting for the server to load so I could exit as quickly as possible. Something about Leon's texts had me genuinely worried.

**[LEON] Do not join that server, Clip. Bad bug.**

**[LEON] You hear me? BAD.**

"Yeah, yeah, I get the point." Thoroughly irritated now, I put my phone on silent and threw it onto my mattress, then turned back to my computer.

_Loading…_

_Loading…_

_Loading…_

Then, suddenly, I was in.

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? Should I continue this? :D<strong>

**Leave a review if you enjoyed!**


	2. Glit2h

**Whoo, another chapter already?! I've been away all weekend, so writing is pretty much the ONLY thing I can do right now...**

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><p><strong>Glit2h<strong>

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><p><em>[[ -OWNER- <em>_**n0_CLiP**_ _joined the server]]_

_[[Welcome to PvELords, Owner N0_CLiP]]_

To me, everything looked fine. Our spawn was present in all it's intricately-constructed glory. No players online yet, of course. Not until we had re-opened the server to the public after we had confirmed there were no bugs present. The familiarity of spawn was so comforting that I didn't log out straight away, instead ambling down one of the main high streets to the centre statue. The statue was a giant model of Leon's skin. A little narcissistic, I know, but - in all fairness - Leon _did_ design and build the spawn from scratch. He deserves a little credit, I suppose.

Our main spawn area was designed in a traditional, victorian-esque style, with huge buildings that sported beautiful, sweeping roofs. Dark oak and cobblestone were the main building materials, with stone brick stairs for accenting. Leon had told me that he had modeled the look of our spawn after his favourite Minecraft series, the Cube SMP. Never seen it, so I wouldn't know. Nevertheless, I liked the look. Personally I can't build for crap, so I was glad that _someone_ on our team was half decent in that area of expertise.

Anyway, back to the statue. Being the creative type, Leon had created his skin himself, whereas I had just pulled one from a skin site like a friggin' noob. My skin was a Herobrine-type-thing, with the traditional white eyes but with a blue shirt, a strap running across it's chest and grey fingerless gloves. Leon's was rather unusual, being a highly detailed replica of Captain America from the Avengers. It was extremely well done, and I always felt a little envious of his talents, being able to create a skin like that.

Kore's skin was a Notch skin.

I pressed my TAB menu absent-mindedly, a frown appearing on my face when I saw I was the only one on the server. Hadn't Kore said that he had already joined? I was just about to retrieve my phone from where I had irritably tossed it when a message appeared in my chat.

_[[ -OWNER- __**KORE_CORRUPTION**_ _joined the server]]_

Instantly, I messaged him.

**[N0_CLiP - KORE_CORRUPTION] Hey! I thought you had joined the server already!**

Of course, I received a reply within seconds. Strange. Everything seemed to be working OK; why had Leon been so adamant that I shouldn't log in?

**[KORE_CORRUPTION - N0_CLiP] stuopid thing kicked me out. i dont think it had finished updating or some shit like that**

I frowned. Kore had been kicked out? Maybe that had been Leon's doing, and maybe he had managed to fix the bug, or whatever it was that he was trying to keep us away from. It didn't seem that Leon had warned Kore about the potential issues, either, which was very strange.

**[N0_CLiP - KORE_CORRUPTION] Kore, did Leon tell you not to join this server?**

**[KORE_CORRUPTION - N0_CLiP] no y?**

**[N0_CLiP - KORE_CORRUPTION] Never mind. Don't worry.**

**[KORE_CORRUPTION - N0_CLiP] leonn joining?**

**[N0_CLiP - KORE_CORRUPTION] I don't think so. We should probably just trial this new update. Meet me at spawn.**

Kore, it seemed, had actually been quite far out (about two thousand blocks to be precise) so it took him a while to trek back to (0,0). As I waited, I busied myself reading up on the new 1.8 additions, and editing a couple of the server ranks slightly. Eventually, I decided to set up a Skype call between us so we could talk a little more easily. Kore reluctantly agreed, so within three minutes I had managed to connect to him.

"Hey, man," I grinned, "What's up?"

"Oh, not much, just running TWO THOUSAND FUCKING BLOCKS to get back to spawn!" The rage in his voice was so amusing I nearly laughed out loud.

"Not having the best time there, eh bud?"

"I swear they friggin' _nerfed_ hunger in this update, dude. The rate I'm losing it is INSANE."

"I haven't really tested it yet. I've just been sitting here at spawn waiting for you to show up."

"Asshole."

"Dick."

"Shit head"

"Stupid-"

_[[ -p⁽la﹣﹡⃮×y`er- __**H₍[ERROR]∈⩘⁻≀`⃑⋴[ERROR]⨀﹨∊i**__` join[ERROR]ed t′he se₋rv⁽er ]]_

"Whoa! What the fuck was that?" Shocked, I stared at the runic message in my chat. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, flickering characters that changed every millisecond in a dizzying whirl of symbols.

"I dunno, Clip. What the fuck _was_ that?" I could practically hear his grin. That's Kore all right, never taking anything seriously. I wish he had, knowing what I know now.

"Maybe It's just a 1.8 glitch," I mused, consulting the TAB menu. There were only two names present: me and Kore. There was no record of the strange message in the chat history, either. I went to shrug the incident off, when-

**[It is not a glitch.]**

"What the actual… Kore, can you see that?!"

"What are you on about, Clip?"

**[He cannot see this, Ian.]**

"H-How do you know my name?"

"What, Clip? That ain't your real name, man. What's gotten into you?" With trembling fingers, I ended the Skype call. Kore immediately tried to reconnect, but I ignored him.

All my focus was on those small white words on my screen.

**[I guess I have your full attention now then, Ian?]**

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><p>I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to <em>think<em> - had a hacker somehow entered our server? If so, how did he know my real name? What had happened to prompt that server join message, the corrupted runic one? In all honesty, it freaked me out so much that I instantly quit the server and shut down my computer. Shaking, I rested my head in my hands. What _was_ that? If whoever was behind the hacking knew my name, then I'd have to assume he knew where I lived as well.

If that happened…

"Oh, I'm so screwed…"

Leaving my desk, I sat down heavily on the bed, breathing hard, deciding what to do next. Simply not logging on would probably be the best option at the moment, until I could sort out the whole stupid mess with Leon. Was this what he had been warning me about? Probably. I wish I had listened.

Deep into my thoughts, I didn't hear my phone quietly vibrating from incoming messages. I didn't even think to check it, I was so distracted.

And that small mistake was probably the reason I am where I am today.

**[LEON] Please don't join that server. I've… I've slipped up.**

**[LEON] I accidently allowed something in, it's… a virus. Yeah, let's call it that.**

**[LEON] Clip, don't even go near that server, do you hear me?**

**[LEON] Otherwise HE'LL be there.**

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><p><strong>DUN DUN DUUUUN! Oh noes! XD<strong>

**Wow, I can't believe this got 4 reviews in about three hours... jeez...**

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><p><strong>Review answers yaaay-<strong>

**LeCustard - I will, I will! Thank you! :D**

**dopedoctor99 - Sure will!**

**MarmaladeBird - I love ending off on cliffhangers; I will continue though!**

**iamsolarflare - Yeah, this story is going to be more sarcastic and snarky than my other ones, and Ian is EXACTLY the kind of person I would not want to be friends with! Good to hear you are enjoying it!**


	3. Sw33t Dr3ams

**Whoa, look at the rate of these updates! Dang, how'd that 1.6K chapter get there? :D**

**Just going to give you guys a little bit of a warning. I know that this fic is supposed to be lighthearted, and I PROMISE it will be, but this chapter is a bit depressing. :(**

**Also SWEARS.**

**LOTS of SWEARS.**

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><p><strong>Gonna do the review answers here, so I don't ruin the chapter ending by obnoxiously typing after it...<strong>

**iamsolarflare - I'm glad you like Ian and 'the gang', so to speak. I'm really trying hard to make them seem realistic. Glad to hear you're enjoying this fic! :D**

**Guest - I wonder who, indeed... XD**

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><p><strong>Sw33t Dr3ams<strong>

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><p>I had school the next day. Lessons had never mattered much to me before, but now I was even more distracted.<p>

I had a glitch on my mind.

The day seemed longer than usual, seconds stretching into minutes, minutes into hours, hours- Oh, you get the bloody idea. Everyone was hyped up, looking forward to the upcoming summer holidays, but even the tantalising thought of six weeks off didn't improve my dour mood. After receiving that terrifying chat message, I hadn't even turned my computer on. Now I was getting withdrawal symptoms; my fingertips would tap at nothing like I was typing on a keyboard, and my right palm constantly itched.

I may have been a little obsessed.

As per usual, I hung out with Duncan at lunch break, huddled in the dingiest corner of the football field. He was smoking. I chose not to.

"Hey, Ian," He queried in his rough, gravelly voice, "What you got on your mind? You look… down."

I sighed, half lost in my own thoughts.

"Computer troubles."

"Is it that feckin' Minecraft server again? I swear, you'll while away your entire life on that pile of crap."

He waited for my (extremely witty, as always) retort, but none came. I was just too caught up in my own fears to think up a response. My one IRL friend nudged me slightly, genuine worry etched on his face. Usually I was the cheerier one out of us, always cracking jokes behind other people's backs, and leering at the girls in their tantalisingly short skirts. Today, though, I just wasn't feeling up to even putting on a false mask of humour.

Today, I just wanted to be left alone.

"I have to go do something, Duchess. See you later." I got up to leave, Duncan's puzzled face watching my every move.

"But we're still in school-"

"I don't give a shit. This is more important."

It wasn't like I hadn't bunked off before, but this was the first time Duncan didn't know why I was doing it. Before, I had just got sick of lessons, of there was a film I had wanted to see, or some other bullcrap reason like that. Never had I bunked off for reasons like this.

Not until that day, at least.

You see, I had learnt a long time ago that, if you walk with a purpose, no one will question what you're doing. I had used that trick many times in the past to trespass, steal and shoplift anything I wanted. A new game, perhaps, or some piece of tech that took my fancy. I was very proud of my skills in that department.

Or, I had been.

I wasn't interested in hardware or games that day, though. Walking at a fast pace, I went straight home, avoiding the muffled raised voices I could hear through the thin walls of our house. My parents were not nice people. They fought, both with themselves and with me, and usually someone ended up hurt. I had taken a couple of hits myself, but my mother had been put in the hospital at least three times.

Father always called it an accident.

We all knew better.

That day, I really wasn't in the mood to be punched (surprise bloody surprise) so entered through the back, silently running up the stairs to my room. I skipped over the creaky one and shut the door behind me as quietly as humanly possible.

Something was not right.

My computer hadn't been touched since I had last quit the PvELords server. It should be off and, judging by the rubbish and old sheets of paper strewn across my desk, no one had been in my room for a while.

_[[Welcome, Ian P.]]_

As soon as the door closed behind me, the old machine finished its startup process, Windows 7 logo flashing.

_...The Hell?! I own a mac…_

Cautiously, I sat down, my left hand positioning itself instinctively over the W-A-S-D key controls. Without me even touching the mouse, however, Minecraft opened on it's own, far quicker than I was used to. My mouse wouldn't work; it was as if the monitor had a mind of its own, navigating to the multiplayer menu as soon as the actual game had started.

"This is some weird creepy shit…" I muttered to no one in particular.

It was if someone was remotely controlling my machine - PvELords started to load without me doing nothing. I backed away from the desk, making a grab for my phone just as it went off. Kore was trying to Skype me and, gratefully, I answered.

"Hey! What the fuck, man!" His raised voice cut through the still air, making me wince and cover the speakers with one hand. I prayed that no one downstairs had heard. "I've been trying to contact you FOR EVER, what friggin' gives, huh?"

"Kore, you don't understand!" I whispered as clearly as I could. "There's something going on-"

"I don't give a crap, Clip. You cut me off mid-call, and was muttering about some crazy shit beforehand. What's gotten into you, man?"

Glancing over at my computer, at my still loading server screen, I swallowed. I didn't think Kore would believe me if I told him, and would even less likely be able to help. I needed to talk to Leon.

"Look, Kore. There's something wrong with our server. Leon told me not to join it, but… it was too late. I think I've been hacked or somethin'. Hacked BAD."

There was a momentary pause on the other end. I could tell what my friend was thinking. If I had been hacked, then had he been as well? Just as I was about to to try and reassure him that it was fine on his end (after all, he hadn't received any of the strange messages that I had) I heard a creak.

Someone treading on the creaky stair up to my room.

"Shit! Shit! Kore, I gotta go!"

"Come on, this is ridicu-" Kore sentence was cut off by me slamming my finger down on the 'end call' button. So preoccupied by the thudding footsteps steadily getting closer, I barely noticed that our Minecraft server had loaded. I went to turn it off-

**[It looks like you are in a bit of a fix there, Ian.]**

"OK, what the actual-" I stared at the pixilated letters in shock. It was the same kind of message as before, dark green, glitchy, no sender or recipient visible.

"I… Screw you! How can you hear what I'm friggin' saying?"

**[Now, that was a little rude.]**

I lurched away from my desk chair, spinning in a hopeless circle as the heavy tread, which I recognised as my father's, grew closer and closer. From the sound of it, he had NOT been in a good mood. If he found me at home, and not at school, then-

Oh God, I was so screwed.

"_IAN_!" The thundering voice echoed around the flimsy dump that I call home. Quickly, I reached out with shaking hands and locked the door. "Are you in there? Bunking off school again? I'm gonna fucking KILL YOU if you are!"

Heavy hands started pounding on the oak wood. It would not hold for long; my father was in one of _those_ moods. The moods that put me in bandages, and my mum in hospital.

"I'll kill you!"

**[He will, you know that Ian.]**

Stumbling backwards, my knees hit the edge of my bed and I sat down on it, hard. My voice was little more than a hysterical shriek as I replied to my father's aggressive yelling.

"Leave me alone! I ain't done nothing!"

The smashing on the timber halted for a second, then resumed with an even greater ferocity than before.

"Then open the damn door! You good-for-nothing, lazy, obnoxious brat! Open the door!"

**[I would not recommend opening that door, Ian. Things might not go well. :) ]**

I let out a frustrated scream at the taunting words plastered across my computer screen. They reminded me of words that Kore might say, the sadistic little kid.

"Leave me alone!"

Turning, I briefly contemplated jumping out the window, but knowing me I'd end up with a broken leg. Or worse. At least if I stayed in my room I would not get very hurt.

**[That is not true. His intentions are… not all that noble.]**

"How the hell did you…?!" I hadn't voiced my thought out loud! Was this a freaking joke?!

"Is this a freaking joke?!"

My father answered my breathless question before the mystery text on my screen could.

"No, Ian, this is not a joke! You've crossed me for the last time, bunking off school! No one will suspect if you 'fall down some stairs accidentally', now will they? You'd better take some time to regret what you've done until I get in there."

My insides went cold. He was actually going to kill me! Sure, I'd taken a beating once or twice when he was drunk, but this…! No!

"Please! Dad! Don't do this! I don't want to die!"

My door started to splinter from father's pounding blows and, in that moment, I regretted it all. All the hurt I had caused, all the broken friendships, all the stolen property, all the lives I had ruined-

Wait. That's not right.

That day, I looked back at my miserable little life, and found that I didn't regret a thing.

**[Harsh. Well, it would not be beneficial to me if you died just yet, Ian.]**

"What the hell do you mean? What am I to you?"

**[You are important.]**

"Fuck you." I hissed. "What you gonna do to get me out of this shit, huh? Type real fuckin' fast?"

**[No.]**

"Then what? I'm gonna die here, whether you like it or not."

**[Not yet. Sweet dreams, Ian.]**

I opened my mouth to reply when my flimsy wooden door burst open at the hinges, splintering into a thousand tiny shards that peppered my face and arms. My father, red-faced with rage and drunkenness, charged straight through with his belt in his hand and


	4. Aw4kened

**Man, I love this fic. Ian is such a complete arsehole, yet he still manages to get me to feel sorry for him...**

**Hopefully this will live up to the previous chapter in terms of quality...**

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><p><strong>Aw4kened<strong>

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><p>Darkness. Silence. Cold. That was all I could see. That was all I could feel. Among the quiet emptiness, however, my thoughts were a malestrom.<p>

_Where am I? _

_Who am I? _

_What's my name?_

I still remember the dream I had back then in the dark, waiting impatiently to wake up. Of course, at the time I had no idea it was a dream. Fuckin' scary shit it was, too. It was when I got my first, terrifying glimpse of _him_.

**[You are still alive. I am impressed. Human will must be stronger than I had previously thought.]**

"Whaa-?" In my dream, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and blinked a coupla times to clear them. I appeared frozen in time. My desk, my computer, my crappy bedroom, all still there, but-

I don't know how to explain it. Disconnected somehow, I was. Father's obscene fat carcass filled my vision, his rippling face twisted up in rage beneath a mane of greasy hair. I could see the murderous intent in his beady eyes, framed quite effectively by the wooden splinters erupting from my broken door. All still there, but…

All still.

Nothing was moving, including my lovely self. I just couldn't. Yeah, I guess I really was frozen in time. Sounds fishy as crap saying it now, I'll admit, but the description fits. The only thing that was moving was a figure half-buried in shadows over in the dingiest corner of the room (and that's saying something, my room in general is pretty feckin' dingy). It flowed like a liquid, and I got the impression that it was cloaking itself from me, God knows why.

I strained a little, trying to move, break free, but made no progress whatsoever.

**[Don't fight, please, Ian. It will only make the transition more painful.]**

_Rapey, much,_ I thought. What could have been interpreted as a mocking laugh filtered through to my ears. Made me want to grit my teeth in anger, but of course I couldn't.

_What are you going to do, huh?_

**[Don't you worry about that. All you need to worry about is surviving.]**

"What? What the hell do you mean by that?" It took me a bit to realise I had spoken out loud, and that the scene around me was no longer still. In fact, it was all moving at an alarming speed; the figure (who I was sure was the owner of the corrupted text) dissolved, I returned to reality, my father brought the heavy leather belt in his hand down on my head, and the world went dark.

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><p>Slowly, subtly, the black receded, scattering to the corners of my vision. I blinked, gazed blankly, uncomprehendingly up at a flat grey sky. A totally <em>unfamiliar<em> flat grey sky.

_Well, shit._

The back of my neck hurt like hell, a sharp, stabbing pain that made me suspect that something had broken the skin. Sure enough, when I reached a trembling hand up to my head, my fingers came away warm and wet.

Crimson.

My whole back was wet, in fact, but not with blood. With dew. I felt as if I had been lying in the same spot, in the same position, for a very long time. But what would that mean?

I groaned. Rolled over onto my side. Let out an obscene string of curses that I won't repeat now. A light rain started to fall on my face, which I wiped away angrily.

"OK… What the actual…" The scene that met my eyes when I stood was awfully recognisable. A lush green forest landscape stretched out for a good coupla hundred metres, stocky trees swaying in the slight breeze. I could see pigs and cows peacefully going about their mundane lives to my right. To my left, a lake, glistening in the weak sunlight. It was an altogether pleasant scene, you could say, if a little drab.

Oh, yeah. And everything was made out of blocks.

Believe me, I've read enough fanfics in my sad crappy little life to know what had happened to me. Knowing is one thing, but believing, actually _comprehending_, is quite another.

_I'm dreaming. I know it. Father probably knocked me out, and this is some fear-induced wacky-ass nightmare I'm having._

**[Oh, Ian. I'm disappointed in you.]**

The corrupted text appeared once again, but this time I could actually see it in the corner of my vision. I jumped at the intrusion, madly whirling round to look for a shady figure nearby, perhaps watching me through a pair of binoculars and laughing at my reactions.

**[Do not worry. It is the same for everybody the first time.]**

"What do you want?!" I growled angrily at nothing. Knowing my luck, there would be someone around to hear me, and come to the natural conclusion that I was insane.

**[I want you to live.]**

"Why? Why? Who am I to you?" Slowly, I spun in a circle, fully taking in my surroundings as I waited for a reply. The world really was an exact replica of the popular sandbox game that ruled my whole life. Clever.

_Too clever, in fact. Too convenient. Things like this only happen in storybooks, for God's sake. _

**[Oh, go punch a tree, Ian.]**

"Shut up!" Pacing up and down a little in frustration, I bit my lip in thought. Obviously, I was no longer in my bedroom, in my grotty, cramped flat. I was no longer facing down my father, a man who I couldn't hope to escape. I was…

I was…

"Fuck. Yes." Slowly, I grinned. Wasn't this what I had always wanted? What I had always daydreamed about in class, talked about with Kore? Wasn't this the impossible dream that I had always longed for?

Wasn't this my own private version of heaven?

"OH FUCK YES!" I'll admit, I even pumped a fist in the air in happiness, all dignity deserting me as childish excitement took hold. At that precise moment, I didn't care about anything that I had left behind. All my family, my school, my home life, my friends-

Wait.

"Hey you! Mysterious green text! Can I ask you a question?"

A few seconds later-

**[No.]**

"Tough." I grinned. "I'm going to ask anyway." There was no immediate reply, so I continued. "Is this a server then, or what? 'Cause you were talking to me on PvELords-"

**[You are currently residing inside the PvELords server, Ian. Although it has now been opened to the public, there are also NPC inhabitants present.]**

"Oh, OK… Wait a fuckin' second! The server's open to the public?! How long have I been here?!"

**[Does it really matter?]**

"Yes, it bloody matters! People don't just disappear, you know!"

**[This reality is better than being dead.]**

Well, I couldn't argue with that. After all, I'd rather be here than back in my room, trying desperately to keep my abusive father out.

Still, there must have been some plan, right? I had a feeling that whoever was behind the glitchy text hadn't saved me out of the goodness of their heart. Yeah. There was no way this was for my benefit alone.

"Might as well enjoy it."

I'd played far more hours on this server than I cared to admit. I knew it all; all the cheats, all the hacks, all the sneaky exploits that Leon had tried so hard to expose. Not only that, there was my vast knowledge of the actual game itself.

_I would…_

_I would OWN this server!_

I laughed, loud, slightly hysterical, fists clenching and unclenching at my sides as my mind whirled with endless, beautiful possibilities. There was no one to stop me from completely taking over this miserable chunk of land, and if it was possible for me to change servers…

I would never be put down again, never be forced to answer to anyone.

I would never age.

I would never find myself in debt.

I would never-

"I will never die!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Fuck you, father! You can't kill me now!"

The lush greenery flew past in a rush as I scrambled up to the top of a narrow outcrop, marveling at the undiminishing new strength in my legs. Before, I had been hideously unfit and out of shape, but now I had the powerful body of a toned athlete. I felt as if I could run forever, just _run_ and leave my painful past in the dust.

Leave it all behind. That's what I tried to do.

Yeah, you could say I made quite a sight, I did. Backlit in what I fancied as a dramatic manner, my lanky hair whipping away from my face in the breeze, standing tall and gazing into the sinking sun.

"I…"

"I am…"

_"I AM GOD!"_

It was at that moment that a skeleton shot me in the dick.

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><p><strong>Damn my childish immaturity. I just had to ruin that dramatic moment.<strong>

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><p><strong>Review<strong>** answers yaaaaay-**

**iamsolarflare- Aww, thanks! Glad you like it! :D**

**DreamDusk- Thank you! (i has kudos! *derp face*)**

**MarmaladeBird- Well, now you know! :)**

**IHateCliffhanger- (Haha, your name says it all)... I won't stop writing this! Swear! Your reviews made me reeealy happy, just want you to know! *furious blush* I'm so hyped up on happiness right now...**


	5. Li5ten

**Yeah, another update to try and make up for my absence! I have NO idea what my update order is anymore. I guess I'll just update whichever story I feel like updating.**

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><p><strong>Li5ten<strong>

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><p><em>[[Player N0_CLiP was slain by Skeleton]]<em>

_[[Respawn?]]_

And that was my first death. Shot by a damned skeleton. In the dick nonetheless; what a way to go. Hell, I'd have found it _hilarious_ if it had happened to anyone else, but unfortunately that was not the case.

I mean, _in the dick! Come ON!_

Anyway, you're probably not interested in what was going through my mind at that moment, but you can be pretty bloody sure it wasn't 'oh, a mob. How nice'. Despite all it's charm, Minecraftia sure has it's dangers.

...The dick! Why would that even happen?

Ugh. Never mind. It's all in the past now. Long gone. So was I, in fact, when I respawned. I ran as fast as my little legs could carry me in the opposite direction, too much of a wimp to even fight a single mob. What else could I have done? I didn't even have a sword-

**[Ian. There is an iron sword in your inventory.]**

"Whaa-?" I huffed, out of breath, checking back over my shoulder every few seconds for any sign of hostiles. At the time, I had no idea how to even open my inventory, which seems kinda retarded now that I think about it.

For me, now, it's as natural as breathing.

"How do I-?"

**[Clench your left fist, Ian.]**

"Huh? What the hell's that gonna do?"

There was no reply. Doubtful, and feeling like a total idiot, I complied. I gave a little squeak of fright when a large object reared up in front of me, but it wasn't a mob, or even another player. It was a semi-translucent grey screen, blocky, flickering, and somehow familiar. Twenty-seven-or-so small, square slots filled my vision, nine extra slightly separate at the bottom. I frowned a little; this looked a lot like a Minecraft inventory, but with two differences. One, it had no armour slots and no mini avatar next to the crafting area. Two, the solitary item contained within looked awfully realistic, and awfully deadly.

"Is that a sword?" I murmured out loud to no one in particular. I was so ignorant back then - of course it was. Slowly, tentatively, I reached out and grasped the miniscule handle, and the thing flexed and expanded in my clammy grip. Within a matter of seconds, I was left struggling to bear the weight of an almost metre-long blade, the flickering inventory screen behind dissolving.

And there the text was again.

That damn smug text.

**[Well done. You performed a task that a creature of lesser intelligence would have completed in a shorter time.]**

**[ :) ]**

"Shut up."

I was about to carry on, carry on to wherever the hell I was going, but a faint noise stopped me in my tracks. The sound of humans, people, capable beings! Like me! Quickly, I began to walk forward at a fast pace, towards the source of the sound, when-

**[Ian. You do not want to meet these people.]**

"What? Why?" My voice was hushed; despite my wild impulse to meet up with these other humans, in an odd way I trusted the text. Whether I believed it or not, whoever was behind the words had saved my life, both from my father and my old, exhausting existence. So, I slowed. Stopped. Crouched down behind a leafy blocky bush when the voices started to come my way.

"...couldn't join us…"

Well, being the inquisitive teenager I was, I leant forward a little to catch the conversation more clearly.

"It doesn't matter. We don't need him at the moment."

This second voice was a lot lower, and more reserved, while the first was… not _high-pitched_ exactly, but on edge. Scared.

"He's away."

There was the second, lower voice again. Through the thin branches, I made out the pair striding swiftly through the trees. Two men. One heavily-built, one not. One hooded, one not. The smaller figure was the one with the panicked voice, while - obviously - the cloaked figure's voice was the deep, powerful one.

I suppose I should describe them both in a little more detail, just for the records. The smaller guy was quite slender, in a toned kind of way. Light brown hair, unruly and messy, like he didn't really take care of it. He had the most spectacular purple eyes, he did. I didn't even think that it was possible for that colour to occur naturally.

So. Description. Faded blue shirt. Dark, ripped jeans. Weren't the kind you see in designer stores either, with the fashionable tears - the man genuinely looked like he'd been trekking through the wilderness for days on end. He had that particular look about him, a look that spoke volumes about his survival skills. I found that, if I squinted a little, I could actually make out his health bar above his head.

Nine-and-a-half glowing red hearts.

The last half black.

Absently, I wondered how he'd taken damage, and if it hurt in this weird world if you did.

And that's pretty much all I can tell you about the small man at the moment. He probably was around six foot, actually; the other figure just dwarfed him.

The first thing I noticed was the colour of his health bar. It wasn't red, as you'd expect; it was yellow. Ten hearts, as normal, but… I don't know, even back then I could feel that there was something _off_ about the guy. Why would he keep his face covered, even though there was no one around (apart from me of course), and it was clear the pair knew each other well?

And what was with that unusual health bar colour? I knew it was the colour of the hearts you got when using golden apples, the extra absorption hearts, but why would someone only have yellow hearts in their health bar? It didn't make any sense.

Anyway, I digress.

I was so caught up in the mystery of the second man that I almost missed him speak again.

"Actually, this concerns him. I informed him that I would be busy today and I was not to be disturbed. It got him out of the way."

His purple-eyed companion paled.

"You did what?! You… you lied to him! What happens if he finds out?"

"He won't."

"But… Y-you know how powerful he is, brother! You know what he can do!"

So they were brothers. Good to know, I guess.

"He is not as strong as you think. If the worst comes to the worst, I will protect you. But bear this in mind; this situation cannot carry on. We have to do something about this so-called, self-proclaimed 'Lord'. Something… permanent."

This was from the hooded humanoid again. The guy practically oozed confidence and power - I wondered what he was capable of, that strange black-cloaked yellow-heart man. I wanted to hear what they had to say, but I needed to be quiet. I leant out a little further, tipping my head back a little and breathing through my mouth in order to not make a sound. It was a trick I had learned a long time ago, hiding from my father. He rarely found me when I hid like this.

Of course, when he did…

"Is that even possible?" Again, the smaller, roughed-up brother spoke up, hesitantly glancing around the small valley they wandered through as if he expected someone to be watching. Well, someone was watching, but it was only little old me. Not this 'Lord', whoever they were. _What_ever they were.

I can tell you this - they sure sounded dangerous to me, if even the hooded man seemed a little afraid of them.

Now, the duo were level with me. Passed straight by me, they did, too caught up in their own conversation to notice me pressed against the floor, with only a thin, shrubby wall between us. I nearly stood up then, nearly revealed myself. I mean, why not? They seemed like nice people to me and, more importantly, they seemed like _strong_ people. People I could count on to protect me in this crazy world.

But, three simple words made me stay put.

**[Do not, Ian.]**

Thus, I stayed. Still. Quiet. I stayed huddled behind that bush until I was absolutely sure the brothers had passed. Only then did I dare to breathe again.

Then I stood.

**[Good. Around a hundred blocks straight ahead of you is spawn. I need you to go there.]**

I almost started forward at the words. Almost.

Instead, I stood my ground, clenched my teeth, and said - "No."

There was a pause. An awful, long pause that set my nerves on edge. What would the text say? What would it _do_? There was no doubt in my mind that it was far more powerful that it let on. What would-

**[I need you to go there. Do not test me, Ian.]**

Still, I resisted. I wasn't about to to give up that easily.

"No." I said again. How naive I was. "I won't do anything you order me to until you tell me who you are, and what you want with me! I'm not about to blindly trust you just because some green text instructed me to! Who were those people?"

**[They are none of your concern. All you need to do now is get to spawn, and find somewhere safe for the night.]**

"Not until you _tell me who you are! Tell me why I am here!"_

**[Fine.]**

I waited a few moments. A little longer. A little longer. Then it happened.

**[Do you see me?]**

The sky darkened; the darkness coalesced into a vague, slender form - only my size, yet somehow dominating the space around with a suffocating shroud of pure black.

Empty.

Slowly, I became aware that I could see thin strands of green wrapping around the emptiness. Binary code. I gulped, tried to step backwards only to find I was, yet again, frozen in place. Frozen in _time_.

**[Do not be afraid. I am your friend, Ian. Your father was going to kill you; I saved you from that fate. Now, I need a favour in return.]**

"Wha- what do you want from me?"

**[I need you to complete the game.]**

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><p><strong>...<strong>

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><p><strong>*Shocked gasp* <strong>

**Wow, who'd have seen that coming, huh?! I mean, it's not like that's the fic title or anything, right?!**

**Why do I even try anymore...**

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><p><strong>WHOEVER CAN GUESS WHO THE LORD IS FIRST GETS A STACK OF COOKIES! <strong>

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><p><strong>Review answers yaaay-<strong>

**BEFORE I POST THESE, I'D JUST LIKE TO SAY SOMETHING...**

**Everyone who reviews my fics, THANK YOU. Every time I see that review counter go up, I practically jump for joy; you've no idea how much your thoughts thrill and motivate me. Now, I know that I'm not a very popular or well-known writer (even though I plan to be). I'm still not happy with the attention I get and always think I can improve. **

**But. Every review reminds me that there is actually a person behind a screen who enjoys reading my work, and actually took the time to sit down and write about it. So, to all those people...**

**Thank you.**

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><p><strong>MarmaladeBird- 'Twas immature of me, I know, but I had to ruin the dramatic scene somehow!<strong>

**iamsolarflare- I tried to model Ian's reactions after what I'd do in that situation (only, Ian swears a little more that I would have). I think his reaction turned out OK, in my opinion! 'Mystery Glitch Figure' is really fun to write, also - I have plans for him later :3**

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><p><strong>THANK YOU ALL AGAIN<strong>


	6. Cau6ht

**This chapter is from a different person's point of view, so it is not written in first person, as Ian is not the narrator.**

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><p><strong>Cau6ht<strong>

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><p>The boy spends the whole day worrying about his friend.<p>

School means nothing to him; the lessons fade into insignificant background noise, roughly shoved aside by his dark thoughts. He does not even care when he receives a lunchtime detention for being late to class.

He has a man on his mind.

Clip has not contacted him since the abrupt Skype call ending. The abrupt ending that, coupled with the shouting and loud hammering in the background, has made the boy seriously concerned for Clip's health. Both mentally and physically, in fact.

"_What are you on about, Clip?"_

"_H-How do you know my name?"_

"_What, Clip? That ain't your real name, man. What's gotten into you?" _

Kore knows that Clip is not his friend's actual name. After all, the name 'Kore' itself is a pseudonym. One he made up a long time ago.

Kore's actual name is Daniel Hills.

He is seventeen, tall, blonde, and generally quiet and reserved. He does not like to interfere with other people's business, preferring to keep to himself and play video games all day.

That is how Kore and Clip met, after all.

On the whole, Daniel is an intelligent boy. He flies through exams with ease, does his homework, revises for an hour-and-a-half each day, and gets paid to set up gaming servers for those who want them.

He is also bored out of his mind.

It is this boredom that began his obsession. The obsession that starts to consume his free time, starts to ease Daniel's tiring, monotonous life of study.

The Herobrine obsession.

Ever since the first rumours had started, ever since the first intriguing post on the Minecraft forum boards, he'd been hooked. The whole notion has fascinated him, the notion of a coded being that had gained… a kind of sentience, if you will. Now, it is this mystery that drives him. It is this mystery that had prompted him to do a little research into the matter, even after the 'creepypasta' had been officially debunked.

But enough of that.

Kore is not thinking of Herobrine at the moment. He is thinking of his friend, still. He is thinking of how Clip suddenly cut him off, sounding panicked and afraid, and the possible ramifications of such a situation. He is thinking of-

After school, he leaves before his friends, making his excuses to go home. They do not think anything of it, he can tell. Daniel, after all, is not the type to socialize any more than is absolutely necessary.

Or so they think.

The boy walks at a brisk pace, avoiding the eyes of the people he crosses in the street. Headphones on, rock music blaring in his ears. This cheap distraction helps block out the hectic outside world as Daniel strides up his garden path, taking a shiny brass set of keys from his pocket. His parents are not home; they rarely are nowadays. Both work high-paid, highly demanding jobs that require them to travel overseas very frequently. He does not see much of them and, when he does, conversation is always tense and awkward. He has grown too much without them now - they don't feel as if they know him anymore. He feels the same way, inside, as there are too many secrets that have piled up over the years for him to trust them.

Secrets that Daniel still keeps today.

Entering, he nods to the maid. She smiles slightly back at him, standing aside to let her young charge past. No words are spoken as Daniel ascends the grand central staircase to his room. Everything is clean, ordered, and immaculate as always, precious vases and teracotta plates stacked up with microscopic precision. He is almost tempted to break something, or set an ornament askew, just for a bit of variety.

He does not, though.

There. First door on the left. His room. The only small sanctuary he has, the only place he wouldn't let his parents touch. While the rest of the house is new, posh, and spotless, his bedroom is quite the opposite. It is small and dusty, located right at the back of the grand estate. The other, numerous rooms in the house look out to the fancy courtyard, an enclosed space that shimmers beautifully in the last fading rays of the sun.

There is no view from Kore's window.

Daniel sighs, and closes the door quietly behind him. He will not be disturbed. On top of the thin desk sits his computer, the only modern and expensive piece of equipment he has. It is an Alienware, one of the most up-to-date, expensive gaming laptops around, the only luxury he allows himself.

_[[Welcome, Daniel H.]]_

The three high-definition screens flicker to life as the boy nudges the mouse slightly. As soon as the PC has completed it's startup process, he brings up Clip's IP address. It is easy for him, far too easy, to track down his real life address from that information.

_Where are you, Clip…?_

He has the address now. Googles it. A recent newspaper article catches his attention, right at the top of the search results.

**TEEN, 17, STILL MISSING AFTER TWO WEEKS**

Daniel's eyes widen as he skims through the rest of the short column. It seemed as though Clip hadn't just been ignoring him - there really _had_ been something wrong…!

_Two weeks ago, seventeen-year-old Ian Preacher vanished from his small apartment in Enim Road, Lambester. The teenager is well-known for skipping school, and has been arrested multiple times for several counts of theft, trespassing and disturbing the peace. On the day of his disappearance, local residents reported hearing-_

Daniel does not need to read any more. Already, his mind is made up; Enim Road was less than twenty minutes away from his house, if he walked at a brisk pace. He stands, grabs his bag, and puts his computer to sleep, slipping out the back entrance in order to remain undetected. Not that anyone cared if he went out for a while anyway.

"Ian Preacher. So that is your real name. Well, pleased to meet you, I guess."

It is getting dark, but Daniel does not mind. The streets should be well-lit but, even so, it is a pretty safe route to walk at night after all. He need not wait until morning.

And this is where Daniel Hills, son of Roy Francis Hills, makes his mistake.

…

Only a fool would choose to walk the dark streets alone. Only an even greater fool would choose to do so while listening to music. The pounding beat means that one cannot hear several large, rough-looking men creeping up behind you until it is far too late.

Far, far too late.

Glass shatters. A large pane of glass, in fact, which crumbles into a thousand tiny, lethal shards when Daniel collides with it. The impact is so shocking, so unexpected, that his clever brain momentarily shuts down; one minute, he is quietly going about his way, walking to Ian's house - the next, Kore finds himself flung into a shopfront with incredible force, clear, jagged splinters of translucent glass scoring deep cuts down his arms and neck.

There is a moment's silence after he comes to rest, sprawled out on the floor inside what appears to be a computer store. Just a moment.

Then come the feet. The voices, hushed in dark mirth at the poor kid's pain. The faces, lean, tattooed, scarred, pitiless. It is really unfortunate that Daniel did not wait until morning to travel to Clip's house.

For now he is going to die.

"...found you…"

Daniel shakes his head, wincing at the crimson stain leaking from one ear. He can't make out the words, not fully, but he can identify the voice. That one, dreaded voice.

One of Kore's little secrets has come back to haunt him.

"Looks like we finally found you, you little shit." A sinister voice chuckles. The tone sets Kore's nerves on edge and causes him to grit his teeth in fear. The boy tries to stand in the darkness. Fails. Almost brings a PC down on top of him in his panic. The only advantage he has now is his silence - no one knows where he is.

But they will find him.

"Betcha remember me now, don't ya, _Daniel_?" The owner of the mocking voice steps over the shattered window pane, careful not to let any dust settle on his designer outfit. He is young, the same age as Kore, but you wouldn't know it to look at him. Black hair, slicked back with some kind of repugnant oil, frames his narrow, sharp face. Even though the man showers every day, he has accumulated the kind of repulsive greasy feel about him that is impossible to wash off. His name is Vince. Vince Queshel. And he is _not_ a very nice individual.

Daniel holds his breath as his attacker enters the hardware store. He cannot move - the fall has twisted his ankle badly, so every slight movement sends a pulsing bolt of hot agony up his leg. Even worse, he can make out a slender black shape clasped tightly between Vince's manicured nails.

_Gun._

"I'm kind of… reluctant to do this, if I'm honest, Daniel. You were a good, reliable customer for years. Years!" The smile does not leave Vince's voice. "You were a man that I could count on. I trusted you, and in return you always paid in full, however high I set the price. I guess addiction is a big motivator, huh.

"But then, what happened? I delivered, you didn't. You got what you asked for. I didn't get my money. So, right here, right now, I want what is rightfully mine."

Kore peers under the row of shelves he is behind. He can just make out four pairs of immaculate leather shoes - Vincent and his three lackeys. There is no slipping past them.

There is nothing Daniel Hills can do now but wait for them to find him. And when they do, he could be damn sure they won't just give him a slap on the wrist and send him on his way.

His supporting hand, bloodied and weakened, slips out from under him, causing the boy to slide to the floor and knock against a rack of keyboards nailed to the shop wall. It is a little noise, the noise they make, but it is enough.

"There you are."

The whole store is suddenly illuminated by a powerful torch beam, blinding after the comforting darkness. Kore is caught in it, frozen like a rabbit in the headlights. One of Vince's cronies had come prepared, it seems. The helpless boy's terrified face is reflected by a hundred dark, inactive computer screens as he is hauled to his feet, letting out a pained groan as his ankle is moved. Blood pools in his eyes. He is almost glad; the distraction means that he does not have to see the gun pointed straight at his head.

"Now, Daniel. This can go two ways." There is that grin again. "One way is this. You give me my money, I let you go on your way, and we pretend that this little… scene never happened.

"Option two. You die. Right here. Right now. It's your choice, _Master Hills_."

Kore looks up, wincing a little. He blinks the blood out of his eyes.

"Go to Hell."

Vince's smile drops into a dark frown. At the same time, subtly, almost unnoticeably, every single computer in the hardware store switches itself on.

And the text appears.

A single line of pure, cursive, light blue text.

_{It looks like you are in a bit of a fix there, Daniel.}_

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><p><strong><em>Wow. <em>This fic is getting so much support, I can't believe it... :)**

**I wonder who this blue text is?**

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><p><strong>Review answers yaaay-<strong>

**iamsolarflare - Thank you! I wonder who the mysterious 'Yellow heart guy' is too. Whoever he is, he isn't the biggest fan of The Lord. The opening inventory thing was actually quite difficult to figure out how to write, actually! :D**

**sean moran 3557 AND LeCustard (answered both of these at once, because they're basically the same review) - Hmmm... Maaaybe... It sure will be interesting to find out who The Lord is, won't it? I wonder if he's the one behind the green or blue text, and how he fits into the story...**

**MarmaladeBird - T'was the little guy Stevie, you're right! And here's yet another guess for The Lord being Herobrine... :D**

**IHateCliffhanger - Awwwh, thank you so much! You might want to check my profile - I think you may be on there! xD**

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><p><strong>Please leave a review; it only takes a coupla seconds of your time, and you can join all these AWESOME PEOPLE above and get featured in my review answers section!<strong>


	7. Da7a

**BE PREPARED FOR EXPOSITION OVERLOAD**

**AND TOO-TIRED-TO-WRITE CRAPPY CHAPTER**

**That's all I'm gonna say**

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><p><strong>Da7a<strong>

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><p>I didn't know that, the whole time I had been walking to spawn, I was being watched.<p>

I do know now, of course, but at the time I didn't. I wasn't even remotely aware of the narrowed, lime green eyes studying my every move, my every clumsy attempt to survive in this crazy world.

I didn't know.

Thin hands ran through the figure's deep purple hair, hanging down almost to the man's shoulders. He had witnessed the stranger spawn, spawn in a strange place that was too far away from any sign of civilisation to be useful. No one in their right mind would set their spawn so far away, so that meant one of two things.

Option one. The stranger's bed had been destroyed, so his spawn had been moved back to it's original point. Not likely, as Clip - the figure could just make out his identifying nametag - seemed to be both lost and very out of touch with the world around him.

That left the other option.

Option two. Clip was a new spawn, fresh and clueless. Spawns like this were incredibly rare nowadays, but it was still possible for the code to generate a completely new entity.

Highly improbable, but still possible.

The purple-haired man frowned, adjusting the highly enchanted diamond sword slung over his back slightly in order to balance it more comfortably. He was incredibly proud of the crystal weapon, having had to have spent hours of time and hundreds of levels fusing power into it's very core. The Hero's Grandsword, it was called, very palatial if a little melodramatic. Well, it's owner was a master of spell casting and potion brewing, unparalleled in his skills, so an overpowered sword was something of a necessity.

He was also not from this world.

Dill, the man's name was. He was fifteen, tall, and had the kind of gentle personality that made him instantly likeable among people he met. Soft-spoken and caring, the potion master was not very well known, preferring to keep himself to himself and not brag about his talents. To those who actually knew him, though, he could be very outgoing if he chose to.

That did not happen often, however.

Most of the time, he'd be out in the forest, aimlessly searching for something, _anything_ that might interest him. Dill had never been too fond of staying cooped up in a settlement, keeping one's head down with the masses; he'd always reveled in the smell of fresh, clean air, the feel of early morning dew on skin.

Even before the shift, he had been this way.

Dill sighed, settling down on a thick tree branch within jumping distance from the ground. He wanted to watch the stranger a little longer.

"Odd. Very odd. Who exactly are you, Clip?" Light green eyes narrowed in thought. Clip's arrival had not been the usual slow flickering-into-existence kind of spawn. It had been more of a sudden drop to the ground - an unconscious Clip had been deposited unceremoniously onto the wet grass less than two metres from where Dill had been standing. Now that the dark haired teen was awake and moving, Dill hung back to watch, absent-mindedly tipping an empty glass bottle between his hands.

Clip seemed a little strange to him. Talking to nothing. Lacking even the most basic of Minecraftian knowledge and survival skills. And yet, when the guy finally managed to open his inventory screen, he had a iron sword stashed away inside.

"It's impossible to keep anything on you when you die. Not without hacking, anyway."

Tiredly, Dill rubbed his eyes. It didn't make any sense, and he was running dreadfully low on both food and sleep. It was probably time to make a quick trip to Spawn to sell some of the goods he had collected, and purchase more essentials for his next jaunt. It looked like Clip was heading in the vague direction of Spawn as well, so he could follow at a safe distance, and observe.

"What exactly _are_ you, N0_CLiP?"

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><p>No matter how good a place seems to you at first, it's always full of flaws. For me, the flaw was walking, and the lack of any notable distractions to take my mind of the slow monotony of placing one foot in front of the other.<p>

Don't get me wrong - I wasn't unhappy. Quite the opposite in fact; my body never seemed to get tired or worn out at all while my hunger was up, and my health was full.

To try and occupy myself, I talked with the text for a while, trying - and failing - to pry any useful information out of it.

"So, what can I call you, then?" I muttered after about three hours of nothing but dense forest. "I can't just keep calling you 'mysterious green text' now can I?"

**[Why not?] **

The inquisitive reply arrived in the corner of my vision almost instantly, and I allowed myself a brief smug smile before carrying on.

"Well, you call me Ian. You know my name, along with a lot more about me that you seem to be hesitant to admit. I just want to be able to refer to you as someone other than 'text'. Makes you seem a little more real, you see, and not just a figment of my deranged imagination."

The text was silent for a few seconds as I continued to hack wearily through the undergrowth, shoddily-crafted wooden axe in hand. It seemed that crafting as a whole in this world was altogether not as simple as right clicking a couple of times. It took a certain amount of skill to actually fashion several separate objects into one tool or piece of armour, a skill that I apparently did not posses.

_Maybe some day._

**[Very well. You may call me H.]**

Suddenly, the text returned, along with my burning curiosity.

H.

Was that a nickname, or the strange entity's actual name? Had they been given the moniker by their parents (or whatever constituted 'parents' in this surreal world) or had they chosen the name themselves?

And did it really matter?

**[It does not matter that much, Clip. It is just a name. Nothing more]**

I ground to a halt. Gasped. My axe fell from my grasp, crashing into the forest floor with a soft explosion of dead leaves. My eyes, unblinking, focused on seemingly nothing as I read and re-read that line of text again.

_[It does not matter that much, Clip. It is just a name. Nothing more]_

_[Just a name.]_

"So. That's what you're playing at." I murmured softly, so softly I hadn't even been sure the sound would carry far enough. Within a couple of seconds, however, that damn text appeared again. _H_ appeared again.

**[What is the matter? You really need to get to spawn.]**

"Clip." I muttered, staring down at my feet. "You called me Clip."

**[Did I?]**

"You did, and you know it. You-"

**[I do not understand. You really need to keep moving. It will be night time soon.]**

"No, _of course_ you don't understand!" Growling, I cast my eyes around to try and catch a glimpse of H, trying to see if they were anywhere nearby. "That's not my name! My name is Ian!"

**[It was a simple mistake.]**

"No. That 'simple mistake' was you trying to get me used to that name, wasn't it? A name that is not mine, a name that will _never_ be mine!"

**[I still do not follow.]**

"Oh, you do." I grinned dejectedly. "I was so caught up in this damned world that I forgot who I am, where I am supposed to be! I don't belong here, H."

I guess that this was the moment that the Minecraftian spell finally, irreversibly broke. I had seen amazing things. A world that I had thought only existed within the confines of a computer screen. People, _real_ people, laughing and living and simply _existing_ in an extraordinary universe beyond my imagination.

But this wasn't my world.

My world was that dingy, overcrowded rock of a planet called Earth.

And I had to get home.

"Don't take this the wrong way - I'm grateful to you for saving me, but this world is not mine. You need to send me back."

A few seconds slowly ticked by. Then a few more. Just when I was about to repeat my statement, the text appeared.

**[This is what you have always wanted. Back on Earth, you were nothing but a troubled, skinny kid with unobtainable daydreams. But here, you can choose to be anything you want, Clip.]**

It seemed that H was really concerned about me leaving, but for what reason? All false pretenses aside, why did H save me that night? It sure wasn't out of the kindness of their heart, that's for damn sure.

**[Fine. Do you want to know the truth about why you are here?]**

I nodded slowly, relieved that I was finally about to receive some _real_ answers, but apprehensive as to what those same answers might entail.

"Yes. I do."

**[This must not be repeated to anyone, for both your safety and mine.]**

**[My world - this world - is in trouble. A powerful entity calling himself 'The Lord' has infiltrated this server, as you may have gathered from that conversation you overheard earlier. His objectives are unknown, but… from what I have seen of him so far, they are not altogether pleasant. He must be stopped at all costs, before it is too late.]**

Stunned, I took a moment to absorb this new information. So it was true. But would that mean that the hooded yellow heart man and H were on the same side? Why would it have mattered if I had been seen by them earlier, then?

"So where do I fit into all this? I'm just a teenager!"

**[You are a teenager with highly developed skills with regards to computer security systems, and the infiltration of such. In the simplest possible terms, you are a hacker. And a hacker is what this world desperately needs.]**

A glow emanated from up ahead. I guessed that this was the spawn H needed me to reach before nighttime, but I slowed my pace.

I needed to have a little chat with the text.

"What do you need a hacker for? I mean, surely having a hacker on the server is a bad thing, right?"

**[Not this time. We have reason to believe that The Lord is actually susceptible to cyber attacks, and that his base of operations is located within The End. He is currently in Creative Mode, but… If you were to journey to the end and locate his central computer, it would be possible to change that. The Lord would be at your absolute mercy.]**

"At… At my mercy? What would I do to him?"

**[Anything you want. Ban him, perhaps, or erase him.]**

"But I haven't even met the guy! What makes him so bad as to go that far?"

**[You shall see, Clip.]**

**[For here he comes.]**

_[[Player [HIDDEN] Joined the server]]_

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><p>...<p>

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><p><strong>Well, well, well. The Lord finally makes an appearence. I encourage people to not jump to obvious conclusions about who - or what - he is.<strong>

**Think outside the box a little, 'kay? xD**

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><p><strong>THE OC 'DILL' IS FROM SEAN MORAN 3557 (He has full stops in his pen name, but FanFiction will not let me put them in for some reason)<strong>

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><p><strong>In other news, a publisher contacted me wanting to publish this fic! Into a real, physical book! Yay! (I only get around £10 for it, but it's a start, right?)<strong>

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><p><strong>Review answers yaaay- (MY GOD THERE'S A LOT OF THESE)<strong>

**LeCustard - Ohh, chocolate chip, please! :D *noms* **

**I don't want to give spoilers, but I'm gonna say that you miiight be pretty spot on... OR I MIGHT BE LYING WHO KNOWS?!**

**27lablover - Yay, a new reviewer! Cool! I'll try to keep this up! :)**

**Guest - Yeah, I think Daniel took drugs, or something like that. Didn't want to add in too many details to it though. Really glad you are getting excited, and I'm sure we'll find out who or what Blue and Green text are soon!**

**IHateCliffhanger (twice) - Are you sure you don't want an OC? 'Dill' is an OC after all! **

**You have NO IDEA how unbearably happy your reviews make me! COOKIES FOR EVERYONE!**

**MarmaladeBird - Thank you for pointing out that error - I went back and fixed it. :D The next update's here, so the waiting's over!**


	8. A8rasion

**Apologies for my absence - Deviantart stuff :)**

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><p><strong>A8rasion<strong>

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><p>At first glance, he didn't look much to me. The Lord, I mean. Just like a normal player, he blinked into existence at the dead centre of Spawn but, unlike a normal player, his arrival caused a tense vacuum to form in the area immediately around him. NPCs averted their eyes, subtly changing their paths to avoid him, while the air filled with a cold silence that can only be achieved from the purposeful absence of conversation.<p>

Then he spoke.

I could not see his nametag from that distance, crouching as I was on a hill above the very outskirts of Spawn, nor could I hear what he said, but I was sure that this man was The Lord that everyone had been so concerned about. It was in the way he held himself, tall with graceful authority, and proud with it. Arrogant.

**[An arrogant king does not a noble kingdom make.]**

H was back again, that little voice in the corner of my mind, that little line of text in my vision. I still didn't trust him, but he seemed to want to keep me alive. Mostly.

**[Observe how the people avoid him. He is not someone to be taken lightly.]**

It was true. The Lord cut a swathe of emptiness through the crowd as he walked, no one daring to even raise their head and look him in the eye. No one, except-

"It's that yellow-heart man…" I murmured softly, sure that no one was around to hear me but cautious nonetheless. Slowly, a lone figure was approaching The Lord head on, hood firmly fixed over his face, blazing hearts a stark contrast to the muted, earthy tones of Spawn. The NPCs seemed to forge a path for him, too, but not one formed from fear as The Lord's was. Formed from grudging respect.

**[Grudging. Yes. Be wary of them both, Clip. Both are up to no good.]**

I flinched a little at the usage of my "other name", but shook the uneasiness off. Now was not the time to be getting in an argument with H over something so petty. Instead I shuffled forward a little from my crouching position, trying to catch a better glimpse of The Lord's nametag. All I could make out was the word Lord (surprise bloody surprise), an underscore, and a long flat stroke of a letter that could have been a B, or an L, or a P, something like that. The rest of the tag was now hidden behind the broad sweep of the hooded man's shoulders, the guy in question falling in obediently behind The Lord.

Absently, I wondered why the yellow-heart mystery was so obedient; hadn't he planned to overthrow The Lord, after all? Hadn't he plotted just the previous afternoon with his brother, the one with the stunning purple eyes?

**[Yes. He did. But the, uh, **_**Yellow-heart man,**_ **as you call him, cannot make a scene here. People would get hurt.]**

Even though H was nothing more to me at that moment than a couple of lines of text on a screen, I still felt the faintest tinge of contempt ring through in his words. I got the feeling that, should H have been the one standing by The Lord's side, he wouldn't have hesitated to finish him off there and then.

"What is the yellow-heart guy's name?" I whispered, edging closer to the main Spawn area with intent to lose myself in the ragged crowd. "I noticed you intentionally didn't tell me earlier, so…"

**[He is the original creator of this world. Not just the server, not just the Spawn. This whole dimension, along with the two others we of this world can reach. He goes by the name N. That is all you need to know.]**

"What is it with you guys and one-letter names?" I grumbled, ignoring the revelation I had just been told. "Is everyone here only known by one letter?"

**[No, that is only me and N. We have normal names just like those from your world, normal names like that man behind you does.]**

Startled, I stiffened, but didn't dare turn for fear of alerting my follower. A cold shiver ran down my back, the sensation of being watched at the forefront of my mind. How had I not noticed before? How long had I been followed?

"Who is he?" I whispered, keeping my quiet voice even lower. No reply. H's text was absent from the corner of my vision, and I wondered why. It wasn't as if he would be overheard if he spoke too loudly, after all. Obviously, H was not going to give me any help with regards to confronting my watcher; I was going to have to do it all by myself.

Straightening, I glanced down at my left fist before clenching it gently, the strange semi-translucent inventory screen flickering into view. It was surprisingly familiar this time, taking that iron sword out and balancing it's weight in my palms. The sensation made me feel confident, so confident in fact that I spun on my heel, rested the blade on my shoulder and shouted:

"I know you're there! Come out where I can see you and stop skulking in the bushes like a friggin' wimp!"

Deafening silence for a couple of seconds. Then movement. Movement among the greenery, a dark shape stepping out from the gloom.

Human.

At the time, I had no idea who - or what - to expect. The Lord, perhaps, spying on me, or that intimidating man M, whose presence I could still faintly feel even from so far away. The man who faced me was neither of those things.

He was young, I guessed around fifteen. Around my height, too, with wide lime-green eyes that seemed to radiate warmth and kindness. Like most of the players I had caught a glimpse of, he was dressed rather plainly in a dark green shirt and faded purple shorts, ragged around the bottoms and nearly matching his vivid violet hair. A huge, ornate diamond blade was strapped to his back, rippling with the peculiar glow that powerful enchantments produce, making me feel rather insignificant with my slender iron sword.

"Who the hell are you?"

The stranger grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Shy. I sheathed my blade, feeling a little foolish standing there with it raised.

"I'm… I'm Dill. How did you know I was there?" Genuine curiosity sparkled in the player's wide eyes, accompanied by another timid smile. He seemed to me to be the kind of person that's instantly likeable, not popular but accepted, someone that would always put the feelings of others before their own.

Exactly the kind of person I hated at school.

It took me another couple of seconds to realise that Dill had asked me a question that I still hadn't replied to. How could I reply? I had a feeling that H would not like it too much for me to mention him, so I simply shrugged.

"I just knew."

The teen looked a little disappointed at that, narrowing his eyes and looking me up and down carefully. He seemed intrigued with what he saw, pursing his lips before speaking again.

"How did you manage to spawn with that iron sword in your inventory? That's impossible!"

I sighed; this guy, I could tell, would be hard to lose. I simply waved the query aside, too tired to formulate an excuse. Instead I turned my back to him which, looking back on it, was probably disrespectful, but I couldn't bring myself to care. After all, I had far more pressing matters on my mind than a single player who had seen me spawn.

A haughty dismissal apparently was not enough to discourage this Minecraftian, though.

"My name's Dill." The purple-haired man grinned, holding out a hand to shake. It was ignored. "Are you… Uh… No Clip?"

"Clip's fine." Aggravated, I closed my eyes. Couldn't Dill see that I had more important things to worry about?

That was how I was back then. Self-centred. Not now.

With a jolt, I realised I could no longer pick out The Lord from the crowd mingling in the centre square; he must have moved while I was preoccupied. I swore, squinting into the heaving mass if only to catch the faintest glimpse of him, or M. Nothing.

"Where did the bastard go?!"

A voice sounded at my ear, loud, sudden, causing me to flinch and instinctively ball my fists up in fright. It was only Dill, though, who had silently ambled up beside me.

"Who are you looking for?" He had said then, or something like that. In all honesty, I don't really remember.

"What do you care?"

"I want to know! Is it-"

All of a sudden, I could no longer hear Dill's voice. It cut off as abruptly as a slamming door, accompanied by the unmistakable clatter of a body colliding with a tree. I whirled, eyes wide, fists clenched, expecting-

Expecting anything but what I saw.

It was him. Him and the hooded figure. The man who I'd been searching for in the crowd, the man who everyone was afraid of, The _Lord_. The man who had bullied this server into obedience, the arrogant, arrogant king.

The man H had warned me about.

Dill was on the ground, unmoving, a dark smear at his temple the only sign of injury. The sturdy oak he had been tossed into, however, was in a worse shape, dents and splinters snaking halfway up the trunk. He looked alive, though.

I probably wouldn't be soon, though.

The Lord. I remember that first terrifying encounter all too well, every single insignificant detail. The man who faced me from across that small clearing was tall, frighteningly so, and looked to be only a little older than I was. His skin was pale; jet black hair framed a pair of vivid magenta eyes, brimming with confidence and self-righteous disdain. I thought I caught the faintest glimmer of surprise in those eyes, the subtlest hint of recognition as my nametag was examined, but it was soon wiped from his narrow face. Power leaked from his every pore, blotting out all but the faintest trace of the yellow-heart-man's energy. That hooded figure in question was skulking at the treeline, cautious of wandering too close. All I could make out about him was a pair of glinting obsidian eyes beneath the hood; unlike The Lord's, they hid nothing.

Pure contempt.

The Lord frowned a little, instantly drawing in my gaze like a helpless fish caught on a hook. His nametag was hidden from me; I couldn't see his username, or how many hearts he had. Nothing. I had absolutely no clue who he was, until he spoke.

"Clip." The Lord grinned slowly, "What an unpleasant surprise."

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><p><strong>...<strong>

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><p><strong>UGH. I'm annoyed. I just spent around twenty minutes on those damn review answers and MY STUPID PAGE CLOSED ITSELF AND I LOST THEM ALL.<strong>

**FK.**

**NOW I'M LATE.**

**I may reply to them all in detail later, but if I don't post this now it won't get posted for another coupla days. So all you need to know is that you're all awesome, I love you all so much, and I'm sorry I'm not replying to them all individually. :S**


	9. A99ravation

**I know, you don't have to remind me. Late as usual. I do apologise!**

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><p><strong>A99ravation<strong>

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><p>"Clip." The Lord grinned slowly. His eyes narrowed in triumph and horrible, horrible recognition. I got the feeling that he knew exactly who - and what - I was, and where I had come from. Still, his face gave nothing away. Nothing more than that terrifying glimpse of utter contempt. "What an unpleasant surprise."<p>

He was dressed rather more plainly than what you'd expect from a man of his stature and arrogance. The Lord's slender frame was draped in a simple brown linen tunic that stretched down just past his knees, devoid of embellishments or fancy stitching. His trousers - if you could call them that - were strange fabric bands that adhered snugly to his legs. Below them, an uncomfortable-looking pair of weathered boots splattered in mud and filth and god-knows what else. A black belt wrapped securely around his waist.

He carried no sword.

Honestly, he looked ridiculous to me. Maybe it was the fear, or the shock, but I genuinely had to stop myself from laughing at The Lord's appearance - he just looked too much like a stereotypical medieval peasant for me to be able to take him seriously.

"You're… The Lord?" I stammered, hating the tremble in my voice. Why should I be so wary of such a weedy looking player? He may be taller, but the guy looked to be about half my muscle mass, if that. _And_ I had a weapon.

To my surprise, he smiled, ignoring a slight groan from the still unconscious Dill, who was lying behind him.

"Am I not what you expected, Clip?"

"Uhh… Not really. I've-" I stopped myself before continuing. It would probably do me no good to say "I've heard a lot about you", as I had been planning to say. That could lead to me mentioning H, and I had a gut feeling that that was one conversation I should avoid.

"What did you expect, then?" The Lord tilted his head slightly, grinning. Wasn't the kind of reassuring "let's be friends" kind of grin, neither. More like a "your skull will look nice on my mantlepiece" kind.

"I dunno! Just something a little more…"

"Impressive." He finished, running a pale hand through his - almost platinum blonde - hair. That moment, he was my exact opposite: me slouching, him straight; me glowering with deep brown eyes framed by my messy black hair, him flicking his golden tresses away from a startling pair of vivid cardinal eyes.

The next moment, however, he… changed. I don't really know how to describe it; it was as if his form was a reflection in a still lake, and someone suddenly tossed in a stone. The Lord split, shattered into a thousand fluctuating shards and when he reformed - when the ripples settled - he was…

Well, let's just say he didn't look like a dumb peasant anymore.

My own eyes stared back at me. My own narrow, chocolate eyes, surrounded by that all-too familiar black hair. I was thrown at first; it was as if I was looking into a mirror and seeing myself there, but a little _twisted_ somehow. My face, my body, my faded _The Used_ t-shirt, my pale hands, my reflection.

The Lord had assumed my shape. And I didn't like it.

He balled his fists as I gazed on, stunned, at the time unable to comprehend what had just happened. A frown of dissatisfaction crossed The Lord's face, a frown that looked ugly and out of place on my form.

"Is this a little more… impressive, Clip?"

"Stop it!" I blurted, before my brain could catch up with my words and tell me to shut the hell up. "Stop doing that! You can't take that form!"

The Lord grinned savagely and took a small step forwards; he was suddenly extremely close.

"Why not?"

"Because that is my body! You have no right!" Honestly, I don't really know what I was thinking. After the power he had so casually displayed, I had no doubt that he could smash me into the dirt with the heel of his boot without a second thought if he so desired. But I couldn't push down the self-righteous anger, the powerful sense of entitlement that had always made me such an egotistical jerk. Here he was. The Lord. Right in front of me; the man who'd forced our - _my_ - server into submission. The man who'd hurt that kid… what was his name?

Dill. That was it.

"I can take any form I like, player. Who is there to stop me? You?" The Lord spat the words in my face. "I could kill you right now, and no one would care. _No one_, you hear me? I can erase you!"

Too caught up in my own self-entitled furor, I hadn't noticed the arrival of the yellow-hearted hooded man, M. He seemed to move without a sound, his feet barely even touching the tangled grass.

"Not here, Lord." M inclined his slightly in respect, though I caught a disgusted glare from those partially hidden glittering eyes. The Lord missed that glare.

_It shows how blinded he is to not see M's hate._

"Why not here?" Honestly, The Lord sounded a little like a pouty child to me, being denied his favorite toy.

"Because we are too close to Spawn. People shall see; we do not wish to draw attention to ourselves."

The Lord huffed, his form morphing back into the medieval-style humanoid I'd seen earlier. Absently, I wondered what he actually looked like.

He narrowed his eyes. As unsettling as the crimson orbs were, at least they weren't _my_ eyes anymore. A staredown with yourself is best to be avoided for the sake of your sanity, I found out. Slowly, The Lord exhaled in defeat.

"There's nowhere you can hide in this server, Ian."

The world stopped. My mouth agape, I didn't even comprehend The Lord's exit. All I could focus on were those words.

_He knows my name. My REAL name._

**[Of course he does. What do you expect. He knew exactly who and what you are from the moment he caught sight of you. Perhaps even before.]**

The line of glitchy green text made me jump, after so long an absence. Hesitantly, I asked:

"Why did he do that? Just talk to me, then leave? Why?"

**[He wished to intimidate you. To crush any futile thoughts of opposition.]**

"Well, it worked…" I muttered, turning back to where the strange player, Dill, had fallen. To my surprise, he was alive, though his flickering health bar (which I had to squint a little to make out) was half black.

"What should I do?" Guardedly, I knelt down to the unconscious man's side. A small trickle of crimson seeped from his hairline, but he seemed to be breathing okay. Hell, what did I know, I was no doctor; Dill could have been dying for all I know. It was about that time that he awoke, groaning a little and struggling to focus on my face.

"What just happened?"

"The Lord happened." Grimly, I tore off a strip of tattered material from the hem of my black shirt and dabbed at the the cut, causing Dill to wince. "He found me."

"Why would The Lord go after you, Clip? I mean, no offense, but why?"

Sighing, I eased myself down beside him, watching as he opened his translucent inventory screen and rummaged around.

"I'm… Well, I'm not from around here."

An expression of bewilderment flashed across the teen's face at my words, quickly followed by one of understanding.

"So, you are like me, then. You had the shift."

Dill pulled out a small lavender bottle from his inventory, which I recognised as a potion of regeneration. "Last one…" He muttered, irritated, before downing the lot in one go and gagging a little at the bitter taste.

"Wait… What's the shift?"

Sheepishly, Dill raised his head to look at me, the potion already furiously working to repair any damage done by hitting the tree behind him. His hearts were blinking as I watched, the black slowly mixing into a dark brown, then to a healthy red.

"The shift is what brought you here. You and me both."

So Dill was like me? A human? Then why did he look so… at ease with himself and his surroundings? Unless…

"How long have you been here, Dill?"

"It does not matter how long. It does not matter who I have left behind, either." He turned his head away from me so I did not catch the sheen of wetness in his eyes. "There is no way back."

**[That is not completely true.]**

I stiffened at H's return, but said nothing. Judging by Dill's lack of a reaction at the text's presence, he couldn't see the green, glitchy letters like I could.

H was able to read my thoughts - that much was evident - so I thought clearly:

_How do I leave?_

**[Trust me. I shall show you when the time comes.]**

"It _does_ all make sense now, though." Dill continued, oblivious to the internal conversation I was having, "Your completely random spawn, you lacking even the most basic survival skills." I huffed angrily at this. "You're a human. Just like me."

I ignored that profound statement; there were more pressing matters to deal with than who was human and who wasn't. We could talk all we liked inside. Glancing up, I noticed the sky was an alarming shade of dark red; the sun nearly completely hidden behind the dense treeline.

"We should get indoors. Do you have a house nearby?"

"Of course." Groaning a little, Dill got to his feet, me following his example. The potion had helped immensely; the teen was moving with only a little effort, and his health bar was at nine-and-a-half.

"It's just down this hill. Let's go."

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><p><strong>I shall do the review answers later - I'm really late!<strong>


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